Sunday morning: I am lying in bed eating ice cream out of a whisky glass. I think of the hundreds of people running the London Marathon not far from me. Call me lazy and uncharitable, but I know where I’d rather be.

In December I impulse purchased an ice cream maker. I dabbled with it over winter, making white chocolate ice cream and chocolate- hazelnut ice cream with varying degrees of success. Now that it’s spring I have high hopes for sunshine and ice cream experimentation.

Since buying David Lebovitz’s ‘Perfect Scoop’ a month ago I have been paralysed with inaction. The book has so many inventive ice cream recipes that in the end I resorted to eeny- meany- miny- mo (I am clearly mature enough to make straightforward decisions now that I am nearly 25).

This ice cream is WOW. Silky smooth and (sorry) melt in the mouth. It would make a killer milkshake. If it had a tv ad, sultry eyes, leprechauns and the M&S voice would all feature somewhere.

I have made chocolate Guinness cake in the past, which is wonderful in it’s own way. Although the Guinness does something spectacular to the texture of the cake, the taste of Guinness is not perceptible. Not so here- this ice cream achieves a perfect balance of both flavours and has a yeasty, zingy aftertaste (which sounds wrong but really work).

I can only apologize that I don’t have a better picture to present you with. Ice cream is a cruel mistress to photograph.